


My Word Is My Bond (Ask Me No Questions Because I'll Tell You No Lies)

by bmcbapej



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, all these problems would be solved by open and honest dialogue, but who are we kidding beca and aubrey are too stubborn, somewhere an angel in charge of love is screaming through a cloud
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-11 12:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmcbapej/pseuds/bmcbapej
Summary: Beca isn't sure what she's going to find in her first year at Barden, but a soulmate who doesn't want her definitely isn't what she had in mind. Aubrey on the other hand knows exactly what she's going to get out of her last year at Barden, but a soulmate who avoids her isn't anywhere in her four-year plan.





	1. Chapter 1

Beca learns the effect of words in stages.

When she’s in first grade and a larger boy she didn’t like pushed another girl into the dirt, she simply looked at him and proclaimed that this was why no one liked him. The boy recoiled, cried and didn’t bother anyone again. She learns that words have _power_.

When she’s in fourth grade and they’re watching Cinderella, someone asked the teacher why there were words are on the Prince’s arms. Their teacher tells them about soulmate tattoos and how they record your one true love’s first words to you after the fact. Although she’s told that soulmates seldom find each other, Beca’s glad that it had happened to someone as unhappy as Cinderella. She learns that words have the power to _change_.

When she’s in seventh grade and hears the familiar sounds of her dad’s car pull up in the driveway, she’s bewildered because he’s not supposed to be home from his new job interview until tomorrow. She crept partway down the stairs as quietly as she could and watched as her mum confusedly greeted him at the door. Her dad doesn’t respond with his usually greeting and instead simply takes off his shirt. Beca snuck down a few more stairs and froze when she could finally see what he was trying to show. There’s a tattoo scrawled across his ribcage – a tattoo that’s never been there before. She learns that words have the power to change _everything._

Beca didn’t take her dad leaving well, not in the slightest. She cried, she yelled, she even snapped all the Disney DVDs they owned in half. That day she decided that movies were all a lie. They only showed you what you wanted to see and what you wanted to hear. They didn’t show you the destruction that the protagonists would leave in their paths as they chased their happily ever after.

For a while, Beca decided to simply stop talking. Words have already ruined enough lives and she doesn’t want to breathe anymore of them into existence. That doesn’t last long as she’s sent straight to the guidance counsellor and her mum was called in a few times. The crying her mother does behind closed doors convinces her to change her mind more than the hollow platitudes of her teachers.

She then realised that she needed to change tactics, and in order to do that she needed to research. She spent more time in the library in the following weeks than she had ever done so in her entire life. She devoured every non-fiction book and documentary she could find on the topic (her teachers were relieved to find that she’d speak occasionally now but their concerns then pivoted towards her nose-diving grades).

Some facts she learnt were pointless (the first recorded mention of a soulmate tattoo was on some stone tablet that’s over 5000 years old), some facts scared the hell out of her (the largest documented age-gap between soulmates was 39 years), and some facts were absolutely essential to formulating a plan (you had to talk directly to your soulmate for it to count which was why you didn’t hear more stories of people finding out that celebrities were their chosen ones).

Beca developed a system. She didn’t talk to anyone who hadn’t talked to her before and if it was absolutely necessary she would talk in generalities. She carried around a notepad and a pen which she used to get her point across when interacting with strangers in daily life. It wasn’t ideal, and her mum still watched her with a sad glint in her eyes, but the teachers let it slide once her grades started picking up again.

In a strange twist of fate, her hatred of words didn’t impinge her love of music in any way. She had always held a fondness for that particular artform, but it really came into its own in the aftermath of her parents’ divorce. Music was the ultimate form of generality. The words she couldn’t bring herself to say, the thoughts she couldn’t even begin to unravel, and the feelings she didn’t have the vocabulary to explain. It was the ultimate form of expression and she loved it with all her being.

* * *

 

Beca never planned on going to college even if she did have the grades for it (it turns out that a consequence of her distaste for interaction was a very small social circle that gave her plenty of time to study). Everything changed however, when her mum became severely ill during her final year of high school. Suddenly her dad remembered she existed and her mother made her promise to “take a chance” and “let someone in”. Everything passed in a blur, from her graduation to her mother’s funeral and she’s somehow found herself on a plane towards Atlanta for her very first year of study at Barden University. She’s not quite sure what she was doing here but for the first time in a while she had decided to just go with it.

Her new roommate easily fell into a silence with her as they both begin to unpack. She had prepared herself for a number of different scenarios where she would have to awkwardly avoid talking without offending the other girl, but everything worked out. That was, until her dad showed up.

“It’s Missy, your R.A! You guys keep it down in there!” She was 95% sure that the fake feminine voice was her father’s and neither her nor her roommate stopped unpacking. She hears another knock followed by a deeper voice, “Uh, Beca it’s me, your dad. I know you’re in there, Missy said she already handed you your keys.”

Beca can feel her roommate’s eyes on her and she huffs a little before opening the door. She stared her dad dead in the eyes and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Hey Beca. So how are you settling in.” She gestured towards her side of the room. Her music equipment was all set up but that was it. “So, when did you get here? How did you get here?” She fished the taxi receipt out of her pocket and waved it in his face. “Right, well do I at least get a hug? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” Beca crossed her arms and glared, but her dad went in for a hug anyway. She didn’t hug him back.

Her roommate cleared her throat behind them and announced, “I’m going to the Activities Fair.” Beca turned around and gave a nod before moving to the side to make room. A few moments after the other girl had left, she declared, “I’d rather be there than here,” before grabbing her bag and leaving.

* * *

 

The activities fair is loud and it’s a lot to take in. She ambles around from booth to booth, but nothing really peaks her interest (it might also be the fact that she doesn’t stay long enough for anyone to try to convince her to join anything). She thinks she sees her roommate down at the Korean Students Association booth but she’s not certain.

As she continues walking, a flier is thrust into her face followed by the words, “Hi! Any interest in auditioning for our acapella group?” It’s been a long time since anyone has had the audacity to approach Beca in such a manner, so she just stares at the girl in front of her. “We sing covers of songs but do it without any instruments. It all comes from our mouths!” She raises her eyebrows as high as they can physically go which the other girl seems to misinterpret as interest. “There are four groups on campus: the Bellas, that’s us and we’re the tits, the BU Harmonics, the High Notes, and the Treblemakers.”

The blonde girl next to redhead whips around as fast as humanly possible at the mere mention of the word ‘Treblemakers’. She hears a hissed, “Chloe, we don’t speak of such evil.”

Chloe, she assumes, ignores her friend and instead asks, “So are you interested?”

Beca rolls her eyes (maybe a little too dramatically but really, of ALL the clubs she could draw the attention of, it’d be this one?) and before she can take out her notepad to politely decline the blonde girl growls, “What, are you mute or something?”

 _‘That’s really not the best way to win over any potential recruits._ ’ Beca thinks. She smirks a little as she pulls out her notepad, scribbles “What’s it to you?”, and slaps the newly ripped page onto their desk – all the while not breaking eye-contact. She sees both girls pale suddenly but leaves before either of them can say anything.

Later, she feels a little bad but there was no going back now. She briefly wonders if they had managed to convince anyone to audition at all, but all thoughts cease once she catches sight of herself in the public bathroom. It's plain as day in the infinite reflections of the parallel mirrors. A new tattoo, where none had previously been, is engraved on the back of her neck. A tattoo of the words: ‘What, are you mute or something?’


	2. Chapter 2

Beca’s first instinct is to run. She only makes it partway out the door before she realises she's not going to get very far. Although Barden’s campus was large and filled with plenty of built-in restaurants and shops, surrounding it was acres and acres of dense forest (it was the main reason almost everyone lived on-campus).

Her next best option is to hide. She takes off her bag and pulls out a hoodie, sunglasses and a chunky pair of headphones which she knows for sure are large enough to cover her newest piece of body art if she wears them around her neck. She probably looks like a delinquent and the occasional passer-by gives her a wide berth, but she isn’t complaining.

Whilst she had no destination in mind, she’s not surprised to find that her feet have led her straight to one of the campus libraries. Even after she had stopped researching, libraries had become her sanctuary. The appeal definitely wasn’t in the literature (Beca had little interest in the pursuit of knowledge she didn’t deem important), but in the quiet, undisturbed silence. Some of her best mixes happened in these places.

This time however she was being denied entry. She furrows her eyebrows as the automatic glass doors refuse to open for her. She knows that the library isn’t closed because the lights are on and she can see people inside (also who the hell is studying this early in the semester?). She walks back and forth, waving at the sensor overhead to no avail.

“Do you need some help there?” Beca whirls around and of course she comes face-to-face with _Chloe._ There’s tens of thousands of students enrolled at Barden and she manages to bump into _her._ “Freshman, right? You have to scan your ID if it’s after hours.” Chloe demonstrates this on a scanner she hadn’t noticed until now. “Voila! Open sesame!”

Beca notices a thick textbook in one of the older girl’s outstretched hands. _‘Pathologic Basis of Veterinary Disease’, huh didn’t peg her as a science major._ She awkwardly throws up a peace sign (really Beca? thank god she doesn't recognise you) and power-walks inside at a pace that’s closer to a sprint than a walk. Deciding she doesn’t want to get kicked out for looking like she’s about to commit theft, she takes off her sunglasses and brings her hood down (still careful to make sure it sits over her headphones).

It takes her at least half an hour to mentally map out the entire building (except the sixth floor which seemed to be closed for renovations) and she eventually settles in a vacant computer lab at the very back corner of the third floor. Out of habit she picks the seat furthest from the door and logs in. She spends a few minutes checking if any of her favourite bands have posted updates, before bringing up a brand-new search page. She wracks her brain in an attempt to remember what Chloe had said their group was called and takes a shot with the phrase ‘Barden acapella Belles’. She’s pleased to find that the first result is a YouTube video titled ‘ICCA Finals 2011 / Barden University / Barden Bellas’ which she quickly clicks on. _Wow, 3 million views? This is apparently a thing now._

She can objectively say that all the girls are pretty, but the outfits are a little too prim and proper for her tastes. The performance is technically flawless but so boring that she can’t believe so many people would be interest- _HOLY SHIT! OKAY, THIS IS WHY IT HAS SO MANY VIEWS. SWEET BABY JESUS._ Beca hadn’t taken any biology units in high school (opting to fill her mandatory science requirements with physics and chemistry), so she didn’t even know that you could physically produce the sheer amount of vomit being projected into the crowd.

After the initial shock wears off, she quickly closes every tab she has open before the video can reach its end. She knows that something like that obviously wasn’t a secret, but she still feels dirty – as if she’s invaded the girl’s privacy. Beca can feel a begrudging respect that the blonde had the confidence to not only show her face again on campus, but to still be a member (captain? representative?) of the Barden Bellas.

As if the universe was testing her, she hears the door open and watches as the girl in question enters the room. _Really, are you serious right now? Who’s next? My roommate? My dad? That weird air-guitar guy in the Prius? Someone has to be setting me up, these coincidences just don’t happen in real life._

She feels a little guilty that all she can think about is the video she’s just seen and she’s pretty sure the other girl wouldn’t appreciate a tattoo going ‘I just watched you puke your guts out.’ _Wait_ , _I haven’t said anything to her yet. That means…_ The dawning realization that Beca had the ability to dictate exactly what words would be branded onto the blonde’s skin was a responsibility that didn’t sit well with her. What the hell was she supposed to say in this situation?

She watches as the girl purposefully strides towards a certain computer and instead of sitting down as one would expect, reaches behind the monitor to remove what looks like a flash drive. A familiar book is picked up (is everyone around here just carrying veterinary textbooks?) and she catches sight of a tag displaying ‘A. Posen’ on the girl’s bag.

Her suspicions that this is a nametag are mostly confirmed when a sandy-haired boy ducks into the room and asks, “Hey Aubrey, you found it?” _Aubrey. Au-brey. Aubrey Posen._ She decides then and there that the name suits her.

“Yes, it’s exactly where Chloe said she left it.” Beca doesn’t know whether to be offended or not that neither of them have noticed her. She knows she’s small but she’s not invisible.

“Cool, let’s get out of here. It’s pretty late.” Of course, someone like _Aubrey_ has a boyfriend.

As she watches the duo leave, she idly wonders if Aubrey has ever had any girlfriends. Beca herself has never put much thought into girls, or boys even (love interests had never been high on her list of things to worry about). It’s a line of thinking she doesn’t want to follow so she decides to refocus on something more tangible than feelings.

Reopening a web browser, she decides to look up what she’s supposed to do now that she has a tattoo. The last thing she wants is to accidentally do something to inflame it. She learns that there isn’t much involved in looking after it and nothing should go wrong unless she makes the mistake of trying to alter it. Soulmate tattoos and artificial tattoos don’t mix very well and the few pictures she sees are absolutely horrifying.

Makeup though, was an entirely different story. Since it sat on the surface of the skin, there were no problems and Beca eventually finds a few websites selling tattoo concealer which should theoretically work on both natural and artificial types. It’s expensive, and she shouldn’t be making purchases like this when she's broke and unemployed, but she doesn’t think twice about ordering a trial set.


	3. Chapter 3

The following week passes by uneventfully. Beca attends the lectures which aren’t too early in the morning for her to function (but never any of her smaller tutorial classes), puts in an application to work at the radio station (she had missed their booth at the activities fair, but luckily, they were still hiring), and receives her makeup set in the mail. Well, her roommate (who she eventually learnt was named Kimmy-Jin) receives it and gives her a calculating look when handing it over.

She learns that the concealer is waterproof, transfer-proof and is supposed to last at least 16 hours which more or less aligns with a standard sleep schedule (Beca doesn’t follow one but she figures she can make it work). She doesn’t have much experience with products such as these but after her first day using it she thinks it deserves nothing less than 5 stars.

She should have known that day would be different as soon as her dad had come in to try and convince her to go to her ‘Intro to Philosophy’ class. She’s tempted to report a professor abusing his position in order to stalk student timetables and visit them in their dorms, but ultimately decides against it when he offers to fund a trip to L.A. if she “tries” for a year. She’s not sure what constitutes as “trying” (and apparently the position she accepts at the radio station doesn’t count) but she’s sure she can find a club or something to “try” out for a year.

It’s with that offer in mind that she forgets where exactly she is when she enters the public showers. It’s late and there aren’t any other sounds apart from her shower shoes hitting the cold tiles, so for a moment she doesn’t remember that these spaces are communal. Singing is something she only indulges in when she’s truly alone and that was usually when she was in the shower back home. The acoustics were amazing and if her mum ever heard her over the water, she never commented.

_“I'm bulletproof nothing to lose_ _  
Fire away, fire away”_

“You can _sing!_ ”

Beca’s gotten very good at suppressing verbal reactions but even she couldn’t stop the instinctual scream that passed her throat. All she has on hand is a loofa and a bottle of shampoo, so she does the first thing that comes to mind. Now, Beca would be the first to admit (to herself only) that she’s not great under pressure. Honestly, the great thing about writing responses to people is that they’ll wait which means you can change your mind partway. It’s a luxury she can’t afford in certain scenarios. In her defence, Chloe had just invaded her privacy in a major way. Chloe now also had a bloody nose from the shampoo bottle that was flung in her face.

“Okay, rude. That was a compliment. The tone of your voice is beautiful – you should use it more. You _have_ to audition for the Bellas!” Beca can’t believe the redhead is ignoring both the blood running down her face and her nudity. And Beca’s own nudity. Oh God, she was still naked. Having nothing to cover herself with, she decided the next best option was to turn and face the wall. It’s also in that instant that she remembers the tattoo on the back of her neck. Unless Chloe was simply _that_ focused on Beca’s voice, the concealer really was waterproof because she continues with, “Just consider it. One time we sang back up for Prince. His butt is so tiny, I can hold it with one hand.”

_NOPE. I’m out._

If the other girl wasn’t going to leave, then Beca would just do it herself. Ducking and weaving with an agility she hasn’t needed to display since the high school varsity cheer squad had taken an unwanted interest in her, she manages to escape passed Chloe, grab her robe and make a break for it back towards her room. Praying that Kimmy-Jin wasn’t back yet from wherever she had gone, she's disappointed to find that she literally bumps into her dad who had been about to knock on the door.

He takes one look at Beca’s disheveled appearance, half-wet hair and haphazardly put on shower robe before concernedly asking, “Are you okay? What happened?”

* * *

 

Beca’s first impression of the radio station is that it looks old. Not in the abandoned building sort of way but more in the we-renovated-every-building-on-campus-but-forgot-this-one sort of way. The door creaks ominously as she opens it to reveal a dark room filled with shelves upon shelves of records and CDs. She stands at the door in order for her eyes to adjust to the lighting and take everything in. It’s actually kind of cozy and she can hear a British voice coming from the booth in the corner.

“85.7 WBUJ – Music For The Independent Mind”

Making her way towards the booth, she can see a plethora of equipment through the window that she’s just itching to have a go at. The DJ sitting inside turns around and after noticing Beca, stands up and comes outside.

“Hey. You been there long?” Shaking her head in response, she then watches as he turns around and goes back inside. Her attempt to follow him in is stopped by an outstretched hand. “Sorry, but freshmen aren’t allowed in the booth.” Stepping back awkwardly, she eventually sees him come back outside with a crate full of CDs. “I’m Luke. Station Manager. You must be Beca. I was going to get Jesse to show you where everything goes but he’s late, _again._ I need you to stack these CDs over there,” he gestures towards a section of partially filled shelves in another corner of the room, “in alphabetical order by artist and then album name. Hopefully Jesse will show up before you’re done, and he can point you to where the rest of unsorted music needs to go.” She nods as she receives the crate from Luke, only allowing herself to frown after he’s gone back inside the booth. _This sucks._

Beca makes it through half the crate before a loud rattle signals the entrance of another boy. He swings a bag onto the floor and leans forward to catch his breath. _This must be Jesse, he looks kind of familiar._ Standing up straight again, he catches sight of Beca and his eyes perk up.

“Hey, you must be the other new intern! I’m Jesse, it’s nice to meet you.” She offers a small wave in response as she stacks the next CD in her hand. “You know, it’s usually polite to give your name back when someone offers you theirs.” Normally Beca would roll her eyes and walk away but she figures it’s probably in her best interest to make nice with the person who’s most likely going to be sharing shifts with her. She fishes out the dog-tag from underneath her shirt and flips it sideways to give him a proper view of an engraved ‘Beca’. It’s something she bought and has taken to wearing all the time ever since she got sick of baristas asking for her name.

Jesse’s mouth makes an o-shape briefly and his eyes flash in understanding before he shoots another grin and goes, “Gotcha. So Beca, I know Luke’s not exactly the king of hospitality, want me to show you around?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the stage is set. Beca's more or less met the three other key players in this story so up next we'll switch over to Aubrey and see what she's been up to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than I thought it would since I had to scrap some of my original ideas which didn't work out (also life happened haha). In this chapter we get a brief glimpse into where Aubrey is at right now. I've always thought she had a lot more depth than shown in the movies (well obviously this applies to all the Bellas since there's only so much you can do in the given screentime) but there's definitely more of a backstory there.

Aubrey liked to be organized. Plans, schedules, checklists. Those words were all synonymous with success. They gave her structure, order and _control_.

Proper preparation and adhering to guidelines ensured that she could maximise her happiness. If she followed the suggested study plans, she could make sure she would always have an answer when called on in class. If she scheduled her homework and chores appropriately, she could make sure she would always be available in the brief times where her father was home from work.

All of this was also a way for Aubrey to minimise her _un_ happiness. If she compiled and obeyed a checklist of all her mother’s expectations she was less likely to cause disappointment and embarrassment. Sit up straight, don’t cross your legs, chew your food at least seven times before you swallow. She took note of and filed away every major and minor criticism or admonishment for future reference so that she wouldn’t repeat the same mistake twice.

The problem with even the most perfect of strategies was that they required perfect people to carry them out. People, Aubrey eventually learnt, were not always to be trusted to do their duties. Project partners would not always meet their agreed upon deadlines, her father was not always able to return home on the days he promised, and even her own body could refuse to cooperate.

Aubrey isn’t sure at what point she started experiencing that nauseous feeling in her stomach that would happen whenever she was nervous, but she does remember the very first time it manifested itself in actual stress vomiting. It was during the mandatory end-of-school play in her final year of elementary school. It was a play that she knew like the back of her hand, having rehearsed it often enough that she could very well recite it in her sleep.

On the day of the performance, one of the actors who she shared the most scenes with fell ill so they had to replace him at the last moment. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that understudies might have been needed so the stand-in actor knew none of his assigned lines. The boy knew the overall plot and adlibbed his lines as if he was a professional improv performer. As far as the audience knew, he was following the script to a T. The same could not be said of their opinion on Aubrey’s performance.

After anxiously bumbling through most of her scripted lines which no longer made sense in context, he approached her off-stage before their last scene together and whispered in her ear, “Come on, just let go and play along.” And she did let go, just not in a way that either of them could have imagined. The performance had to be ended prematurely when two of the students and three of the audience members suddenly found themselves covered in vomit. For once in her life she was glad that her father could not make it to one of her school events, her mother had attended however and was absolutely livid in the car ride home.

From then on, being on stage always brought forth an extra undercurrent of unease. Aubrey may be a lot of things however, but a quitter was not one of them. Refusing to concede defeat, she continued to sign up to musical performances, leadership positions and public debates. Every single time she successfully finished one of those activities, she felt a little bit more vindicated. (She hasn’t participated in any acting since, but Aubrey is adamant that’s just because nothing had piqued her interest.)

For the most part, she encounters no major problems in high school through to college (it helps that her dad is reassigned a new location after the end of her elementary schooling which forces them all to move across the country and away from anyone that would remember her). That is until The Incident at the end of her junior year. Alice always had a knack for ramping up Aubrey’s nausea right before a performance, but it was ordinarily manageable. She even had the added stress of a solo during their semi-finals routine under control. Which was why she hadn’t expected to have any issues with their final performance, after all there weren’t going to be any surprises. Surprises such as her mother sitting in the audience. The same mother who had stopped attending any of her activities after that fateful school play. The same mother who was once again watching her only daughter be an _utter disappointment_.

Aubrey hadn’t thought it possible, but from that day forward her hatred for surprises intensified.

* * *

 

Aubrey resisted the urge to sigh (it was unladylike) as she looked out across the third floor of the Law Library. It was only the beginning of the second week of semester, but nothing was going according to plan. Her two main goals for the year were to graduate with honours and to redeem both herself and the Barden Bellas as a whole. The latter objective was currently on the backburner since she couldn’t do much until after auditions the upcoming weekend (that’s didn’t stop her from drafting multiple training regimes, they just needed to be tailored once she knew what exactly she was working with – the activities fair turnout hadn’t been encouraging). The former objective was typically one of her easier pursuits. That wasn’t to say that law was easy (it was definitely the opposite) but _studying_  the law was the sort of regulated environment that Aubrey thrived in.

Law had _precedents_ , they studied and applied thousands of verdicts that had _already happened._ Aubrey always made sure to get a jumpstart on the assigned (and optional) readings in order to give herself time to research beyond the scope of the subject (and attend Bellas rehearsals guilt-free). She was always at least two-weeks ahead of each unit’s study plan at any given point in the semester because it gave her extra time to complete all the provided practice exams past and present. There weren’t supposed to be any surprises – Aubrey had already planned out her degree structure (Summer units and all) before even setting foot inside her assigned dorm room for Pete’s sake. Which was why she was very unhappy to discover that the college had made a last minute adjustment to her major requirements. They had reduced her available electives by one (so her advanced reading of ‘Patents and Trade Secrets’ was no longer academically necessary) and included a new core unit ‘Soulmate Laws in the United States and Around the World’.

Everything about this new subject was different. There were no study plans (the lecturer decided the assigned readings on the fly, with little regard to the way Aubrey wanted to schedule her tasks), no past tutorial questions (this was the first year it was running), and most distressing of all was the rarity of available precedents. Soulmates were a relatively new area of the law due to the extreme difficulty in finding ‘The One’ in a world of over seven billion people. The incident rate was on the rise due to globalisation and along with it came problems that the courts were admittedly ill-equipped to handle. Aubrey would begrudgingly agree that the subject (so far) was fascinating and an area in which she had a lot to learn (the only thing she knew going in was that soulmates couldn’t be forced to testify against each other regardless of marital status). That didn’t mean she couldn’t hate the way it fit into her schedule.

A schedule that brought her to her favourite library on a Monday afternoon. A library that was currently at full capacity due to the unplanned temporary closure of the biggest library on campus. A small fire had broken out on the ground floor of the Science Library over the weekend. There had been no significant damage but since it was the third time the fire brigade had to be called to Barden this year, it had been shut down for a more thorough investigation (rumours of an arsonist in the incoming batch of freshmen were floating around). Giving the floor a second glance over, Aubrey zeroed in on what appeared to be an empty seat in the back-corner booth of the library. Quickly striding over, all she found was disappointment – the seat wasn’t empty, she just couldn’t see the girl occupying it because they were asleep in-front of their laptop behind the wall of the booth.

As if the universe could hear her silent prayers, the boy sitting next to them grumpily shut his laptop and started to pack up. She stood patiently as he quickly shoved all his items into his bag and left in a huff. Taking a seat and organising all her items in their appropriate places, she opened her laptop and plugged it in. It soon became obvious why the previous boy had angrily left – the electrical socket wasn’t operational. Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to find another study area anytime soon, she turned to her right to see if the sleeping girl had a spare working socket (their laptop was plugged in). They did.

In a careful attempt to not to wake the girl, she slowly stretched over their laptop to plug her own one in. Satisfied to see her own charger light up, she took a step back and realised that she had accidentally shifted the other girl’s laptop and awoken the screen. A screen which was currently showing the Barden Bella’s webpage (all official clubs were required to maintain a webpage on the student union's website). The page which would ordinarily have a video clip of their most recent ICCA performance thankfully only showed their semi-final performance from last year. _Hmmm, I need to remember to ask Chloe if we should change the text font._ A quick skim over what other tabs were open showed that the girl was clearly browsing Barden’s clubs and society offerings. _The Engineering Music Society, I thought they disbanded last year? The Korean Students Association, isn’t this girl Caucasian? Barden Deaf Jews, oh she must have just clicked on anything. Coffee Appreciation For Enthusiasts-_ the tapping of pen against paper behind her caught Aubrey’s attention.

She could feel her cheeks reddening once she realised she had been caught red-handed in the act of snooping by the laptop’s owner. _Oh._ The cocked eyebrow and silver-blue eyes on the previously sleeping girl were definitely familiar. _It’s her from the activities fair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: We'll stay in Aubrey's POV, the universe insists on Beca and Aubrey interacting, and Chloe has another run in with Beca (this time fully clothed).


	5. Chapter 5

First and foremost, Aubrey would like to highlight the fact that she was most definitely not a busybody interested in the affairs of others. Secondly, the girl had been on the Barden Bellas webpage which made it her business anyway. Alas, proper social decorum would dictate that she should offer an apology.

“I didn’t mean to pry. I was merely attempting to-”

“SHHHHHHH!” From Aubrey’s still standing position, she could see a young blond man glaring at her from over the booth dividers. Once he had caught her attention he pointed aggressively to the _‘Silent Area’_ sign on the wall adjacent to them. She coloured a little as she sat down _silently_ , irritation flaring even further when she could see that the girl she had been trying to apologize to was smirking at her in bemusement.

Deciding that a written apology (no matter how undeserving) was also acceptable, she retrieved a secondary notebook from her bag (the one already on her desk was reserved for lecture notes only). Flipping towards a fresh, blank page she hastily (but neatly) jotted out a message.

_“It wasn’t my intention to pry. I was simply making use of the extra electrical socket next to you before I caught sight of the website you were on. I’m one of the captains of the Barden Bellas as you might remember from our brief meeting at the activities fair. I would also like to convey my sincerest regrets at how that concluded.”_

After sliding the book over, it also gave her a chance to really take in the other girl’s appearance. The first thing she noticed was an excessive use of eyeliner. If the rest of her appearance (surely there was a limit to how many piercings a girl needed in her ears) didn’t also scream alternative, Aubrey would have assumed she had accidentally applied too much and tried to even it out. The large headphones around her neck were also a curiosity and Aubrey didn’t recognise them. Everything from the thick nylon cable to the velour ear-pads looked functionally expensive but not flashily so in the way branded headphones usually were.

Realising it just wouldn’t do to be caught staring, Aubrey turned her attention to the girl’s left hand as it started to formulate a reply. Aubrey’s eyebrows rose once she also realised the message was being written in cursive. At least, it was cursive in the technical sense of the word – all the letters were joined together. It was a style that she couldn’t quite pin down (and she knew a lot of them, having taken many calligraphy classes). None of the ornate embellishments, formal flourishes or even functional loops she had seen before were present. It was _different_ in every sense of the word. What struck Aubrey the most was the fact that everything was in capital letters, which made the joins between letters strange and awkward-looking. Despite this, it didn’t seem to slow down the brunette’s pace of writing at all (if Aubrey was a waging girl she would have put a sizeable sum on the notion that even Chloe couldn’t write faster - even when in peak chicken-scratch medical notes mode).

_“IT’S COOL. I WASN’T BEING TOO FRIENDLY EITHER. YOU BELLAS AREN’T HALF-BAD. NOT MY JAM BUT TECHNICALLY SPEAKING WHAT YOU DO IS IMPRESSIVE.”_

The girl offered a non-committal shrug and went back to whatever it was she had been working on before she had fallen asleep. Ordinarily Aubrey would be satisfied that an unplanned interaction such as this had ended swiftly, but there was an inexplicable feeling of disappointment in her stomach as she went back to her research.

* * *

 “Grande, iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with soy milk for Aubrey.” _This is new._ Aubrey was unabashedly impressed that the cashier had gotten her name right for once. She was a regular here, coming in like clockwork almost every morning. And on every single one of those occasions she would have to collect an order for _Audrey_ no matter who was working.

 _The afternoon staff must be more competent._ She had missed her usual morning pick-me-up because she had been too busy attempting to calm down a hysterical redhead. Collecting the drink from the counter, any temporary goodwill towards the staff immediately vanished once she realised _‘Albury’_ had been written on the cup.

The café was bustling that Wednesday afternoon, which didn’t bode well for Aubrey since she was hoping to meet Chloe here to discuss that uncharacteristic meltdown this morning (the cause of which they hadn’t gotten around to discussing before she needed to run off to a class). Aubrey realised the only vacant table in the building was next to the four-seater in the corner that was currently occupied by a single girl. The same girl from the library/activities fair.

Striding over and claiming the table for herself, she fished out her phone and frowned as she started to read her latest messages:

 **Chloe:** soz, defs gonna be l8

 **Chloe:** save me :’(

_[Image Attached]_

Aubrey rolled her eyes at the attached picture of Chloe’s Russian Literature professor with drawn on devil horns. After sending back a short response telling the girl to pay attention to her class, she took a sip from her coffee cup and looked around at her surroundings.

Honestly Aubrey wasn’t a snoop, her eyes just _happened_ to catch what was on her table-neighbour’s computer screen. It wasn’t her fault that they once again had something interesting on their screen. It was a TEDTalk, the title of which she couldn’t see because it was full-screened, but the subtitles gave the impression that it was an interesting lecture.

‘ _Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole-’_

The video was abruptly paused mid-sentence and a word document brought up. “ _You know my laptop screen is reflective right_?” was then typed up in extremely large font.

“My apologies, I was just looking in that general direction and the moving picture caught my attention.”

“ _So what’s your deal?_ ”

“I beg your pardon?” Aubrey had expected the girl to twist the screen away and was unprepared for a conversation to continue.

“ _You’ve seen me look at clubs and watch these boring ass Philosophy lectures. So what do you do when you’re not being a creeper Miss Captain of The Barden Bellas?”_

“Aca-scuse me, I’m not a creeper!” Feeling multiple eyes on her, Aubrey lowered her volume before continuing, “I’m a pre-law student.”

_“Fancy. What kinda law?”_

”If we’re going to do 20-questions, I should be asking you questions too.”

 _“That’s not how 20-questions works but sure, I’ll do tit-for-tat if you’re game.”_  Talking to strangers wasn’t something Aubrey ordinarily partook in, but she figured that she had time to kill since Chloe was still in a class across campus. It was a bonus that she found this girl interesting.

“Alright then. I’m undecided on what branch of law I want to pursue – it’s not a requirement to pick one yet. I’ll most likely select business law, but criminal law does have its merits.” Aubrey had been aiming to specialize in business law for years now, but it didn’t hurt to leave her options open. “What do you study?”

 _“I’m a freshman so undeclared major. I’m taking a bit of everything right now: philosophy, musicology, anthropology, sociology. So why the Bellas?”_ Aubrey was taken aback at the sudden change in topics.

“What do you mean ‘why the Bellas’?”

“ _Most people don’t just accidentally captain an acapella club. Especially people studying time-consuming subjects that have nothing to do with the fine arts. I’m no expert but I’m pretty sure law is competitive and most students pad their extra-curriculars with stuff like debate club instead of singing. You look like the type of girl who has her shit together so you’d know that. So, how or why did you end up there since it was obviously an intentional decision?_ ”

This is a question nobody had ever actually asked her before. Most people she encounters either brush off the fact that she’s in an acapella group as an inconsequential fact, or are part of the acapella circuit themselves and don’t feel the need to question it. At face value Aubrey’s first reaction would be to say that she enjoyed it, but if it was only that fact alone she would have ~~quit~~ moved onto a different activity a long time ago (there was nothing fun about Alice). However, she was saved from any further introspection by the vibration of an incoming call.

“Bree! I’m here! Zaitseva is the worst, who holds a class back just because he’s too slow to finish the slides he prepared. Anyway, where are you?”

“I’m in the corner.” Aubrey stood up to give Chloe and herself a better view. The flaming red-hair was hard to miss so she waved the other girl over.

Bracing herself for one of Chloe’s patented greeting hugs, she was instead surprised to see the girl look past her and blurt out, “Holy shit, Beca I’m so,  _so_ sorry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Aubrey FINALLY learns Beca's name. It bugged me so much to not be able to use her name for two whole chapters considering she was right there and being discussed. The conversation with Chloe was slated for this chapter but I decided to bump it forward into the next one.
> 
> I found it interesting that in the third movie (spoilers if you haven't seen it yet) Aubrey says that she hates being on stage. Putting this admission into the context of the first movie makes it even more amazing. Her performing with the Bellas we know and love can be explained because she genuinely likes them (and she wants to impress her dad), but the old-school Bellas? They treated her like garbage.
> 
> The quote in the video Beca was watching is from Plato's The Symposium.
> 
> [Minor spoiler] If anyone noticed a detail in this chapter that doesn't quite add up with an earlier chapter, I promise it's intended and not a plot hole (unless you found something else then it probably is a plot hole LOL).[/Minor spoiler end]
> 
> Up next: We finish up this cafe scene. Aubrey meets Jesse. (and if we have time) Auditions!


	6. Chapter 6

_So, her name’s Beca? Wait, how does Chloe know her and why is she apologizing?_ She watched as Beca’s expression cycled through a range of negative expressions she couldn’t quite identify before settling on one of obvious confusion.

“It was me, right? That email to the student body was about me.” Aubrey tried to recall what emails she had seen in her inbox since the beginning of term. There were the typical notices from her professors, correspondence with the ICCA committee and clubs union, start-of-year announcements from the dean including one unusual… _She wouldn’t…._

“Chloe, please tell me you had nothing to do with yesterday’s email about harassment in the dorm bathrooms.”

“Well, it was technically addressed to everyone on campus.” _Dear God._ Aubrey pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Beca open up a student email account. She was unable to suppress a twitch at the sight of 47 bolded unread messages. An intimidating scowl decorated Beca’s face as she finished reading the email in question. She then angrily scribbled a note onto her spiral notebook.

_“EMAIL WASN’T MY DOING BUT I’LL HAVE A WORD WITH WHO I’M SURE DID.”_

“Oh, well I’m still sorry about making you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have just barged into your shower stall like that.” Her best friend was infamous for her complete lack of boundaries, but this really was something else.

“Chloe! For the love of- What on Earth would possess you to do something like that?” Beca tensed at Aubrey’s line of questioning, refusing to meet either girls’ eyes. Her fingers began to fidget nervously with the ballpoint pen in her hands.

Sparing a glance between Beca and Aubrey, Chloe hesitantly responded with a quiet, “Reasons.” If Chloe’s evasive response wasn’t enough of an indicator, the way Beca jerked up in surprise clearly meant that there was something being left unsaid between the two.

Before Aubrey could press any further, a boisterous voice from behind yelled, “BE-CAW! I was going to apologize for being late but look at you! Interacting with other human beings by yourself. You’ve been holding out on me.” Turning around to see a baby-faced boy wearing a dopey grin.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the newcomer as she asked, “And who might you be?”

“Swanson. Jesse Swanson.” There was something Aubrey didn’t like about the guy.

“Well I’m Chloe and this is Aubrey. It’s nice to meet you!” _Speak for yourself._

“And we were also just leaving.” Ignoring Chloe’s questioning look at her interjection, Aubrey quickly turned towards Beca. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“See you around, Beca!”

Beca offered an awkward two-fingered salute to both girls as they began to leave. Before they were out of earshot, Aubrey could hear Jesse ask, “Anyway, are you busy Saturday morning? I forgot to tell Luke I’d be busy and I need someone to cover my shift.” _How unprofessional._

* * *

 Aubrey never did end up finding out exactly why Chloe had invaded Beca’s shower, but there seemed to be no hard feelings between the two – she saw them eating lunch together as she was traversing the quad on her way to a Thursday afternoon lecture. That didn’t mean that Chloe was spared from a lengthy lecture on the importance of personal space, however.

* * *

 She sees Beca again on Friday. The alarming number of coincidental encounters in such a short timespan on a campus as large of Barden was beginning to get to her. Once was an accident, twice was a coincidence, but surely thrice and beyond was a pattern or something?

It was late, and Aubrey was on her way back from an evening class. She would have liked to leave earlier in order to prepare for tomorrow morning’s acapella auditions, but she had to stay behind to discuss some preliminary planning for a group project. They crossed paths as Aubrey was walking passed an old looking building that she would later recognise as the campus radio station.

Offering each other a casual nod in greeting, they walked together in silence toward where the student dormitories were. It was a new experience for Aubrey. Whenever she was with Chloe, the redhead would keep the conversation alive as if her life depending on it. She contemplates whether or not it’s pathetic that after 3 years in college she had only made a single real friend. Sure there were familiar faces in all her classes (the pre-law cohort wasn’t particularly large), but those cordial relationships ended once she left the classroom. The only ones who tried to pursue something outside of academics were misguided boys she would eventually have to turn down. Aubrey didn’t have time for relationships, not when she had classes to ace and an acapella group to redeem.

She briefly wonders what Beca is listening to. A different set of headphones were resting around her neck (not that she was taking notes on these things or anything), but there was an earbud in place on the ear furthest away from Aubrey. Deciding that wasn’t important right now, she takes a moment to just enjoy the warm August breeze. Sensing the brunette beside her looking in her direction, she turns to catch her eye and they both offered the other a small smile.

For a moment, Aubrey was at peace.

* * *

Aubrey was right to be suspicious of Jesse. He had the gall to be standing in front of her on stage and audition for the _Treblemakers_. It was a heinous crime she wasn’t willing to forgive. He even cancelled a prior commitment for this! To make matters worse he wasn’t even a terrible singer. His vocal talent was backed up by a showmanship that would fit right at home with those other hooligans.

She’s even more irritated to find out there was another vocally-adequate male auditioning. Someone by the name of Benji Applesauce or something, she had been distracted by Chloe who kept looking around at the girls who had yet to audition. Honestly, while they obviously were only going to be recruiting females, it was still important to size up the potential competition.

As the morning continued, Aubrey found most of the candidates underwhelming at best. Some of them definitely had potential but they weren’t exactly the ‘super-hot girls with bikini ready bodies who can harmonize and have perfect pitch’ that she had been hoping for. Even her ever-optimistic co-captain seemed to deflate as the auditions drew to an end. Her thoughts on how she was going to arrange an ICCA-winning team out of the options available were halted when Chloe suddenly interrupted Tommy the audition manager.

“Wait! There’s one more.”

Looking up, Aubrey was flabbergasted to see the last person she expected walk on stage.

“Hello. Umm, I didn’t know we had to prepare that song.” _Beca?_ The girl in front of them sure looked like Beca (albeit with an unusual timid expression) but surely she wouldn’t be here to audition?

“Oh, that’s okay, sing whatever you want.” Aubrey was too confused to protest this suggestion and wasn’t able to formulate a response, even when Beca began to empty the stationery cup on their desk.

Her first thought when Beca finally sat down on stage was ‘ _wow that’s a low-cut shirt’._ The second was _‘why is she using an instrument in an acapella audition?’._ And the third? The third and only thought she could focus on was ‘ _that voice is beautiful_ ’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoomp there it is!
> 
> Up next: Switching back to Beca's POV, we'll rewind a little to see what actually brought her to auditions.


	7. Chapter 7

Beca wonders if her dad purposefully set his consultation hours this early in the morning in order to deter people from actually visiting him. The repeated snoozing of her alarm meant she had almost missed it completely. Standing in front of her dad’s office door though, Beca pauses to think about what she even expects to get out of this. Sure, she’s angry that he’s once again tried to butt his way back into her life, but truthfully he hasn’t actually done anything out of line this time. It was a general enough email, no one got in trouble, and Beca wouldn’t have even known about it if Chloe hadn’t brought it up.

She furrows her eyebrows a little in thought. While her father didn’t need to be a genius to piece together the gist of what had happened (she had hurriedly arrived back at her dorm room a mess and wearing only one shower shoe), she doesn’t recall actually giving Chloe her name at any stage.

Sighing a little, Beca turns to leave. She doesn’t know what to really feel when it comes to her dad. He never had a choice when it came to his tattoo, she knows that, but completely disappearing from her and her mum’s life? That was wholly his decision. She didn’t need him in her life anymore, but her mother was never the same after that night. Her dad might not have been her mother’s one true soulmate, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t her world. Subconsciously rubbing the back of her neck as she waited for the elevator, she freezes when she hears the voice belonging to the subject of her thoughts.

“Beca? What are you doing here?” There’s no valid excuse for her being here, somehow, she knows that ‘just taking a stroll along the fourth floor of this building’ wasn’t going to be believed – especially since it held no classrooms. She offers a noncommittal shrug hoping he won’t press the issue. They silently enter the lift and she can see him awkwardly wringing his hands together in the closing door’s reflection. It's painfully obvious that her social skills are genetic.

In the weeks following her dad’s departure, a younger Beca had thousands of questions swimming in her head. Why would he just leave like that? _How_ could he just leave like that? Did he still love her mother? Did he ever really love her mother at all? Did he ever really love _her_? Was he happier where he was now? If so, did that mean he wasn’t happy when he was with them?

They’re questions she’s still no closer to solving, but ones she long ago accepted that she didn’t need the answers to. Still, as they part ways, Beca is briefly willing to admit that they might be answers she still wants.

* * *

The flashing cursor on an otherwise empty word document taunted her. Her Philosophy professor had assigned an open-ended essay that was succinctly described as “Free Will”. The broadness of the task meant she wasn’t boxed into a specific direction but it also meant that if she didn’t decide on how she’d approach it, it wasn’t going to go anywhere. The clock on her laptop was confirmation that she had wasted the entire morning. Quickly typing up ‘Free Will’ as the title so that she could technically claim she had made progress, she shuts the laptop lid and she decides to just cut her losses and go buy some lunch.

Taking a bite out of an unremarkable burrito, Beca watched as the other students on campus went about their day. Some were rushing to what was probably their next class, some were seated casually around the quad with their friends, there was even a group of guys playing ultimate frisbee. It’s moments like this where she wonders what she’s doing with her life. If you had asked her in high school what she would be doing at this age, it would be grinding her way into tearing up the music scene in LA. It’s something she can still see herself doing but she can’t muster the same conviction she once had.

She’s not stupid enough to take a gamble like that without a big enough plan in mind. She knows that making it in the industry isn’t something that just happens overnight. Bills still needed to be paid and food still needed to be bought. It was why the previously insane notion of someone like her attending college made sense at the time it was offered. It was a free ride courtesy of her dad, and it would let her work on her music - all the while maybe picking up a new thing or two.

It’s only two weeks into the semester but she can’t help but wonder if she’s made a mistake. Sure the classes aren’t half bad, but the assignments are boring as hell. Her radio station internship feels more like a CD-stacking internship, and her mixes are starting to all sound the same. Pushing her doubts out of her mind for now, her eyes catch sight of a familiar shade of red.

Two figures were in a position that couldn’t be described as anything but intimate. Unless Chloe and Aubrey were involved in some sort of polygamous relationship, the man who she thought was Aubrey’s boyfriend was in fact Chloe’s. This complicated matters. He was Beca’s primary excuse for her inaction with regards to the whole soulmate issue. She might be described as many things, but a homewrecker was never going to be one of them.

As if feeling Beca’s gaze, Chloe turned around after giving the guy a goodbye kiss. Breaking out a grin, the older girl made a beeline towards where Beca was currently sitting. She grimaced a little at the impending social interaction. It was too early in the day for dealing with other people, she preferred a much later time such as never o’clock.

“Hiya! Fancy seeing you here, Beca.” Okay, she really wants to know now.

 _‘When did I tell you my name?’_ is Beca’s written response.

“Oh, you didn’t. You were wearing a dog-tag with your name that night at the library.” Oh. “Anyway, I’m _super_ sorry about what happened in the showers. I’m pretty confident about all this,” Chloe made a casual gesture towards herself, “and I kind of forgot that some people aren’t.”

Beca thinks it’s less ‘some people’ and more ‘most people’ when it comes to not wanting their showers invaded but she decides to not point that out.

“You really do have a nice voice though, and it would be awesome if you joined the Bellas!” Chloe pulls out a flyer from her backpack. “Auditions are Saturday morning if you’re interested. It’s totes your choice, but at least think about it. Even if you don't, I won't tell anyone.” It was a statement followed up by an overly exaggerated wink.

Soon enough, she’s left alone with nothing but her thoughts and an advert with too many musical puns. _My choice, huh?_

* * *

Beca’s CD stacking skills have reached the point where she can efficiently do it on autopilot. It definitely helps that she recognises most of them by just their covers. The rare few she has to stop and read are the ones that are added to her ‘check out later’ mental list. Jesse is usually delegated to CD retrieval when they work shifts together. Luke notices the speed at which she works and instead of doing the nice thing and maybe showing her the booth, he ‘rewards’ her with _more_ CDs.

When she’s finally done with the monstrous workload she was assigned that night (her shift should have ended half an hour ago), Luke stops her before she leaves, “Nice work today, don’t worry about coming in tomorrow.” Beca cocks her head to the side questioningly. “You sorted all the prep stuff we need for Saturday, I can handle the stuff on the day and Jesse can pick up what’s leftover on Sunday.” It’s a pleasant surprise and she’s certainly looking forward to being able to sleep in.

The surprises keep coming as she bumps into Aubrey outside the station. They both exchange a nod in greeting before quietly walking back to their respective dorms. It’s a nice night, the breeze is cool but not too chilly, and a clear sky allowed the moonlight to brighten their path.

Turning to look at the older girl, Beca thinks it’s the most relaxed she’s ever seen her, and it’s an expression that puts Beca at ease. They make eye contact just as the audio through her right earbud changes songs to _‘When I’m Gone’,_ a song she had recently discovered via the radio station shelves.

That extra half hour of work was definitely worth it.

* * *

Beca’s hopes of a late afternoon lie-in are dashed by all the visitors Kimmy-Jin has to their dorm that morning. Apparently, the Korean Students’ Association was hosting a fundraising stall and they had all decided to meet outside of Kimmy-Jin’s place. Which also happened to be _Beca’s_ place. Sleep eluded her even after they had all left. Grumbling, she boots up her laptop in the hopes of maybe getting a new mix started.

Her hand slips, causing her to open the wrong file and she’s met with her Philosophy assignment. She can't quite recall when it’s supposed to be due. Knowing she had written it down in one of her notebooks, she rummaged through her backpack, inadvertently pulling out something she had stuffed inside.

Picking it up the off the floor, she looked at it, then the clock, then at her bolded ‘Free Will’ on her laptop screen, before staring back at the acapella auditions flyer.

* * *

The relief at arriving just in time turns to horror when Beca realises they had to prepare a specific song. Before she can begin to slink away, all eyes are drawn to her.

“Wait! There’s one more.”

She has half a mind to just bolt, but she had come here for a reason. She had come here _by choice_ so maybe it was time for her to just follow through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again ;D
> 
> We're nearing some scenes I don't want to spoil so I won't give you guys an Up Next this time around. I'm also hoping to maybe spend some time on all the other Bellas at some stage as well, but we'll see where the wind takes us. My writing always tends to deviant from my notes no matter how detailed I make them, haha.


	8. Chapter 8

“Interesting selection this year, don’t you think?” remarked Chloe as they alphabetically arranged the photos and notes on each candidate in their shared dorm. “Should I put Fat Amy under A or F.”

“A. And must we refer to her as _Fat_ Amy?”

“Well she wants to be called ‘Fat Amy’ and we know that, so it’d be rude not to.”

“And if she wanted you to address her as ‘Megatron The Great Destroyer’, you would go along with that too?” Aubrey frowned a little as she realised that Lilly’s photo had come out as a complete blur.

“Of course not, that’s too many syllables. I’d just call her Meg.”

Aubrey hummed distractedly as she placed the final application on the table. It was the only one without a photo attached since Beca had arrived after they were all taken. She didn’t need a reference shot though. She knew Beca was the antithesis of what it meant to present yourself as a proper Barden Bella, but she would begrudgingly admit that the freshman had the vocals of one. Still, something about her just screamed unpredictable – and Aubrey did _not_ like unpredictable.

A high-pitched squeal quickly drew Aubrey’s attention to her co-captain. “No way! I didn’t notice it at the time, but I think Jessica has a tattoo!” Taking a second look at the photo in Chloe’s hands, she could barely make out the faint lines of script peeking out from beneath the blonde’s right t-shirt sleeve. “I wonder what it says.”

“Assuming that what we’re looking at is in fact a soulmate tattoo, statistically it would be something mundane such as ‘hello’.” Chloe pouted at the practical response.

“Boo! You need to dream bigger.”

“Well it could say ‘Hello, my name is…’”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Where’s your sense of romance? Ooh, you know what I’d love as a tattoo? ‘My heart’s a stereo, it beats for you so listen close.’”

“Is that because you want your soulmate to have the same taste in music or because you want your soulmate to be Adam Levine.”

“Can’t I have both?”

One look at Chloe’s wistful expression makes Aubrey not even bother to explain that singing won’t trigger a soulmate tattoo unless the lyrics are directly addressing you.

* * *

 The girls they had eventually settled on were a _colourful_ bunch to say the least. Between the small pool of candidates that weren’t absolutely dreadful in every aspect and the large number of slots they needed to fill to make the minimum performance requirements, there wasn’t much the two co-captains disagreed on. In fact, the only candidate they seriously argued about was Beca Mitchell.

“Seriously Bree? Did your ears stop working for that one audition?”

“I will concede that her vocals are not terrible but she’s also just not Bella material!”

“Her vocals are _not terrible?_ That’s like saying the ocean is _not dry_. Newsflash Aubrey, none of these girls are classic Bellas material and that’s fine. Honestly, what is your problem with her?”

“Excuse me, I do _not_ have a problem with her. You’re so fired up about this, I should be the one asking why _you_ are so obsessed with her.”

Chloe turned away as her voice softened, “Don’t you think it’s at least a little sad? She has such a nice voice but she doesn’t use it. She auditioned knowing she had to sing, so maybe there’s still something inside her that has something to say.”

Aubrey hated arguing with Chloe for many reasons. One, she hated upsetting her best friend. Two, the redhead always had the best of intentions. And three, Chloe had a way with expressing emotions that Aubrey could never quite grasp herself. Facts were easier to refute.

* * *

Aubrey spots Beca a few more times over the coming week. It’s pure coincidence, it’s not as if she’s looking out for her or anything – the freshman just happened to be in the same places at the same times. Chloe’s words rang inside her head each time which annoyed her to no end. Aubrey liked puzzles she could solve, not ones that just left you with more questions. She had more important things to worry about anyway.

Many of her training regime drafts needed significant tweaking. 6am rehearsals ensured that there would be no conflicts with any of their classes, but since they were all freshmen she might even be able to fit in a few rehearsals later on if their schedules aligned. The academically busiest one of the lot was Stacie who had declared herself an Engineering major in her application.

Preparations for hood night were not going exactly to plan. On the plus side, she had ordered an adequate number of scarves (the uniforms would come later after measurements were taken), confirmed the venue and times with the other acapella groups, and obtained the sleeping arrangements for most of the girls.

Unfortunately, Fat Amy had not bothered to write down a last name in her application, and the campus administration had replied to her email saying that none of the incoming freshmen this year had Amy as their first name. Also, the details she received for Lilly’s dorm residence were completely wrong, they listed her as staying in East Hall which made no sense since that building had been demolished over 20 years ago.

Chloe offered to track down the necessary information on her own. Ostensibly the reason was to help free up Aubrey’s schedule, the more likely reason was a combination of Chloe procrastinating her Russian Literature essay and her binge-watching of one too many detective shows. Still, Aubrey knew that Chloe would most likely have more success if she was pursuing less traditional avenues. These girls really weren’t going to make it easy for the co-captains, were they?

* * *

As if the universe wanted to continue ruining carefully orchestrated plans, Beca was nowhere to be found come hood night. Her assigned dorm only hosted an irate Korean girl who did not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night by a stranger. Aubrey even stopped by the campus radio station but to no avail. As the extra time she allotted herself to pick up her half of the girls became paper thin, she resigned herself to running an initiation with one less Bella.

The rest of the night goes as expected – at least the rest of the night that she remembers. Sometime after Aubrey catches Kori sneaking off with one of the new Trebles (she _knew_ having more members than the minimum was going to be necessary), Chloe hands her a cup that’s more spirits than mixers. She almost spits most of it out after her first sip, but it loosens her up enough for Chloe to convince her to finish the rest.

The night, for all intents and purposes, ends there in her mind. As she changes into new clothes the next morning, her pounding headache almost distracts her from the new tattoo sprawled across her left ribcage. Almost _._


	9. Chapter 9

Her audition passes by in a haze. It’s a spell that ends as soon as she places the yellow cup down for the last time. Suddenly cognizant of all the eyes in the auditorium, her heart rate speeds up. Were the stage lights always this hot? Oh God what if she had a fever? Don’t fevers make your voice croaky? Did she just put on the worst performance in the history of acapella? Wait, what she just did wasn’t even acapella, the whole point is to have no instruments! It’s these thoughts that swirl in her brain as she fills in the paperwork thrust upon her while on auto-pilot. Once that’s done she high-tails it out of there.

Beca makes it back to her dorm with the speed of someone who should have been auditioning for the track team instead of an acapella one. Slowly sliding down the side of the door, she wonders what the hell she had just done. As if to taunt her, she catches sight of a familiar box under her bed – the package her tattoo concealer came in. She still has enough of the stuff to last two weeks. The rational side of her knows that her singing shouldn’t have triggered a tattoo but she can’t help imagining being the first person to prove that wrong. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t getting anymore sleep that day.

* * *

She actually attends her morning classes over the coming weekdays. It’s a feat not born out of any scholastic motivation, but out of an attempt to get her mind to focus. Beca doesn’t have any early classes on Friday so she walks into one of her regular lecture halls ten minutes before whatever lesson is scheduled there. Pulling out her laptop, she frowns as it fails to turn on. She remembers falling asleep while trying to mix and realises she must have forgotten to charge it the night before. Staring at her reflection in the black screen, Beca grimaced. _I’m going to need a different kind of concealer if these eye bags get any worse._

Before she can pack up and leave, a familiar voice draws her attention. “Tuckerman v. Hughston is the prime example of why a robust framework is necessary at both the federal and state level.”

Staying completely still behind her screen so as to not draw attention to herself, she could hear Aubrey and her friend slide into the row below her. _Wait, Tuckerman v Hughston?_ It was a case she discovered at the early stages of her soulmate investigations. It involved a woman’s soulmate suing her husband who countersued him back. In short, it was an unprecedented legal situation that threw all the courts into disarray. The lengthy battle ended in the worst possible way – both sides withdrawing their claims only because there was nothing left to fight over.

“If she had just picked one of them, it wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Are you seriously blaming her for being in a situation like that?”

“Look, it was obviously a clusterfuck from a legal point of view and all, but you and I both know that whichever way they ruled wouldn’t have effected where she stood emotionally. Personally, I thought both of them were out of line – especially towards the end – but I genuinely think if she had made her stance clear on either one of them, it wouldn’t have escalated the way it did.” Aubrey’s classmate sighed before continuing, “I thought learning about soulmates would be more fun than this. What do you think you would have done if you were her?”

“Laws are not usually made with fun in mind.” Aubrey paused long enough that Beca started to think she wasn’t going to answer the question. “I would probably pick the husband.”

“Really? Why?”

“She was with him for, what, twelve years? They were happy years too, if all that testimony was anything to go by. A few words from someone delivering me mail should not be able to change that.”

“Yeah but that someone delivering you mail is _your soulmate_.”

“And who decided that?”

“What?”

“There’s no science behind soulmates. Why chase after some unknown fantasy if you have something you know is perfectly good right in front of you? I refuse to believe there is only a single person out there that I should be with.”

“Well obviously you shouldn’t reject everyone until you find your soulmate. They’re rare enough we would die out as a species if we did. It’s just, if you found yours wouldn’t you at least want to see what’s possible? The universe picked him for a reason.”

“That’s just it. If the _universe,"_   anyone could hear the air quotes around that, "picked him but I didn’t, why should we be together? Regardless, we have gotten completely off topic, I was supposed to ask you about your thoughts on the P.T.P proposal.”

Beca never finds out what Aubrey’s friend’s thoughts on the matter are because the professor walks in. She’s surprised to learn that the university is running an entire course dedicated to soulmate law, though in retrospect it made sense. The ordinary reaction to eavesdropping on a conversation like that would probably be anger or sadness, but it honestly increases her respect for Aubrey.

* * *

She’s been avoiding Jesse ever since auditions. It helps that they don’t share any classes and she conveniently avoids opening the messaging application on her phone. It’s sheer luck that Luke’s roster doesn’t have them intersect until tomorrow morning.

It’s weird. She’s never really worried too much about how other people felt before coming to Barden. Now she finds herself in a new position. The more she thought about it, the more she realised she might actually _care_ about what Jesse thought about her. They weren’t exactly friends (it’s definitely too strong of a word) but she truthfully couldn’t just consider him as just another acquaintance.

Then there’s Chloe who goes out of her way to, not just greet Beca when they cross paths, but actually ask her how her day is going. If it was anyone else she’d consider it as forced pleasantries instead of genuine interest. They’re not exactly friends either, but Beca would still, like, offer her a phone charger if she needed one or something.

And then there’s Aubrey.

Yeah.

She’s been doing a lot of introspection lately. Looking within and all that jazz. Still, that was a can of worms she wasn’t going to open right now. She’s got more immediate things to worry about, such as the rustling she can hear behind her. A late Saturday night stroll alone on campus might not be the best move she’s ever made. No matter how safe Barden liked to advertise itself as, they were still willing to hand out rape whistles to everyone.

With one hand clenched tightly around her phone, ready to call if she had to, she power walked in the opposite direction of the noise. A noise which transitioned from a light rustling to a loud clang.

Surprised at the sound, Beca glanced back to see Aubrey trying to pick up a large cup of spilt wine on the ground.

“The blood of the sisters!”

Correction: A _drunk_ Aubrey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there, I swear!


	10. Chapter 10

Choosing to ignore the very cult-like exclamation Aubrey had just made, Beca watches as she attempts to scoop the red soaked dirt into the cup. There’s a mudblood joke in there somewhere. Beca laughs a little to herself when it soon becomes apparent that there’s more of the stuff on the floor than can physically fit inside the cup.

A cold breeze blows past, making Beca shiver a little. Deciding that Aubrey probably wasn’t in a state to get herself home anytime soon, Beca approached the blonde with a gentle arm on the shoulder. The reaction she gets is anything but gentle. Before she knows it, Beca is face-first in the dirt with her arms behind her back. Aubrey, even while inebriated, was obviously more than capable of looking after herself. _Is she some sort of spy with military training, what the hell??_

The grip on her wrists eventually loosens – not that it helps her situation much considering the other girl was still sitting on top of her. All of Beca’s senses are being assaulted at once. The scent of peaches and alcohol filled the once crisp and cool air. It’s so close she can almost taste it. The toned muscles of Aubrey’s body pressed against her provided a complete contrast to the soft, damp ground she found herself on. She sure as hell wasn’t cold anymore. Her body felt like it was burning alive in places she didn’t know she could feel with. The cicadas had stopped their buzzing. The only sound she could hear over the beating of her own heart was the slow breathing behind her ear.

“You’re late.” It’s a soft, velvety tone that sends Beca into a further delirium.

Forget operating heavy machinery, Beca was in no state to control her own body. She initially doesn’t register her own voice croaking out, “Late for what?”

“The initiation.”

Maybe Aubrey really was in a cult. Wait. _Wait._ The realisation of what she’s just done washes over her all at once. Beca freezes. Her body is ice cold now and all she wants is for the ground to swallow her up. As if sensing her discomfort, Aubrey slides off the younger girl and onto the dirt next to her.

“We’re already lost one to the aca-wolves tonight.”

Beca really doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with this crazy right now. Rolling onto her back, she takes in a deep breath as she stares at the full moon shining down from the cloudless sky. She has no idea what she’s doing. It’s an all too familiar feeling as of late. Beca’s never been the type of person to make detailed plans but this was too far in the opposite direction. Instead of going with the flow she feels like she’s being pulled everywhere and nowhere all at once.

She doesn’t recognise her own voice as she lets out a laugh. There’s nothing remotely funny about their situation but she just can’t seem to stop. She laughs until her lungs hurt, until she can’t think, can’t breathe. It’s stupid but she actually forgets that Aubrey is still there.

_Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they're not shinin'  
Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her trying_

Turning on her side to look at the singing girl, Beca can’t help but be struck by the beauty in front of her.

_She's so beautiful and I tell her everyday  
Yeah, I know, I know when I compliment her, she won't believe me_

Sure, Aubrey’s clothes are in disarray, she’s once again holding a cup full of dirt, and her blonde hair is a dishevelled mess with a few leaves lodged inside, but Beca can’t help think that it’s the most unearthly thing she’s ever seen.

_And it's so, it's so sad to think that she don't see what I see  
But every time she asks me "Do I look okay?"_

It’s a surreal dream-like experience.

_I say_  
_When I see your face_  
_There's not a thing that I would change 'cause you're amazing_  
_Just the way you are_  
_And when you smile_  
_The whole world stops and stares for a while_  
_'Cause girl you're amazing_  
_Just the way you are_

They then both sit there in silence until Aubrey’s eventually succumbs to her tiredness. Not wanting to be a creeper watching other people sleep, Beca thinks it’s time to really head back. Torn between not wanting to leave Aubrey out in the open like this and not wanting to be manhandled onto the floor again, she awkwardly hovers over the older girl.

“Aubrey?” She’s acutely aware that this is the first time she’s said the name aloud. “Aubrey, we need to get you home.”

“You can’t put bacon in the toaster, Chlo.” This is going nowhere.

Deciding to bite the bullet, Beca braces herself as she tries to pull Aubrey upwards. There’s no violent reaction this time, just a brief tensing that relaxes almost as quickly as it happens. Wrangling the taller girl into a position Beca can support is made much harder by the cup she refuses to let go of.

Not sure of exactly where to go, she pulls the girl towards the residential area whilst trying to coax out at least a building name. It takes a while before she manages to get a mumbled ‘Lionel Hall’ which is fine considering the snails pace at which they’re travelling. Aubrey is by no means heavy for her size, the firm figure pressed against her back is a constant reminder of that fact, but Beca’s shorter frame is simply not built for this sort of thing.

When they eventually arrive outside the dormitory, Beca suppresses a whistle at how large the building is. The seniors were definitely living it up on campus, that or Aubrey was loaded. Standing in front of the steps however, she realises she has no idea where to go after this. Aubrey had fallen into a deeper slumber at least 10 minutes earlier, evidenced by her light snoring.

As if to answer her prayers, a semi-familiar figure exits the building and spots her immediately.

“She had just as much fun as Chloe tonight, huh?” It was Chloe and Aubrey’s male friend. Chloe’s boyfriend?

Beca grunted in response before a thought struck her. The co-captains probably lived together. She swallowed uncomfortably before asking, “Which room is Aubrey’s?”

“1-F, last one on the left, first floor.”

She hummed a thanks as she slowly made her way up the steps.

“Do you, uh, need some help there?” Any sane person would have said yes, but Beca’s pride wouldn’t allow her.

“I’m fine.” She gritted.

The man watched in amusement. Still, he held the door open for them once they reached the entrance. Beca couldn’t help but be a bit annoyed that he followed them all the way to Aubrey’s dorm, but it soon became apparent why. Of course the door would be locked.

Squatting down to a lockbox hidden behind a plant, he entered in a code which produced a silver key. “Chloe gave me the spare code.”

“Thanks.” She’s honestly more grateful than she sounds.

“Aubrey’s bedroom should be the one on the right.” He lets them both in before beginning to put the key back in the box.

Beca awkwardly stands in the doorway for a moment before asking for a favour. “Hey, umm, can you forget seeing me today.”

“Why?” Eyeing her in suspicion, Beca thinks it’s understandably a good question.

“Please.” She’s not sure what kind of expression she’s making, but it must be convincing since she receives a slow nod in return.

After he leaves, Beca turns around and takes in just how nice the room, no, apartment is. She’d kill to have her own space right now, Kimmy-Jin always made her presence known somehow. She finds Aubrey’s bedroom easily enough and deposits the girl into her bed (it takes her a whole three minutes to pry the blasted cup out of her hands first – sober Aubrey probably did not want to wake up in a bed full of dirt). Stretching a little, she groaned at the sudden weight off her shoulders. She was definitely going to feel it the next day.

Suddenly aware that she was inside Aubrey’s room, she can’t help but look around. Everything is neat and tidy, put there with apparent purpose. There’s a flight attendant-style Bella’s uniform hanging on the back of the door. A few photo frames are lined up along the back of the desk. Seeing these, Beca suddenly feels as if she’s intruding and starts to leave.

A light tug on her jacket gives her pause. “Wait.” Her confusion turns into concern as Aubrey rolls around the bed in an attempt to find something inside her clothes. Pulling out a yellow and blue patterned cloth from god knows where, Aubrey thrusts it into Beca’s hands. It takes her a moment to register that it’s the same scarf she had seen the Bellas wearing in that video. Beca lifts her eyebrows in response.

“Yours.” Aubrey says it with such conviction anyone would expect it to be the one true thing on this Earth.

Nodding awkwardly, Beca responds with a confused, “Cool?”. As if satisfied with that lame response, Aubrey turns around and goes back to sleep. A loud snore from the other room signalled that Chloe was probably out cold too. Beca fumbles her way through the kitchen looking for a glass, filling it with water and leaving it on Aubrey’s nightstand before leaving.

Beca walks all the way home, clutching the scarf in her left hand the entire way. It’s not until days later that she notices that the favourite sunglasses she usually kept in that jacket were missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly Beca's first choice of words to have inked on Aubrey but then again I doubt she got Aubrey's first choice either.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A break out of the usual POV

The Hood Night party was such a raging success that Chloe could still feel it in her head the morning after. It is without a doubt _the_ worst headache she has ever experienced in her life – an impressive feat considering the number of acapella and non-acapella college parties she’s attended during her time at Barden. Whatever Amy handed her last night had a bite to it that none of the drinks individually should have produced, Chloe was going to have to keep an eye on that one.

Any further attempt at falling back to sleep was going to be futile; the slivers of sunlight filtering through the blinds were (ironically) blinding, her throat was doing its best impression of a desert, and Aubrey was making a god awful amount of noise in the next room. Chloe isn’t sure what’s got her best friend so worked up this early in the morning, but she sends a silent prayer that none of the other Bellas have slept with any Treblemakers. Without Kori and Mary-Elise (her co-captain hadn’t seen her walk off with a Treble but if Chloe had a good enough read on the girl, Mary-Elise would crack under pressure), they’re at the bare minimum needed to qualify as an official Barden-affiliated club (and that was including Beca who had been a no-show at the initiation). Funding would be a nightmare otherwise.

Rolling out of bed, she figures that she can solve at least one of her problems by getting a glass of water. As she passes by the Aubrey’s door, shuffling gives way to the sudden sounds of vomiting which convince her that maybe two glasses of water are in order. Despite being known for her stress-vomiting, Aubrey was someone who surprisingly held her liquor quite well. Chloe reasons that something about the alcohol last night must have been different if it was getting this sort of reaction out of the blonde the next morning.

Pouting a little at not being able to find her favourite cup, she fills two of their ordinary ones instead. Taking a sip out of one of them, she almost trips over something on her way to Aubrey’s room. Glancing down to see an unfamiliar pair of sunglasses fills her foggy mind with more confusion. They’re definitely not hers, but they do look quite expensive and Aubrey usually isn’t the type of person to leave this sort of thing lying around. She pockets them in the hope of asking about it later.

Nudging the door open with her elbow, she finds her half-dressed best friend hunched over a bucket. Thinking maybe she should put the glasses of water down so she can hold Aubrey’s hair back, she’s bewildered to find two cups already on the girl’s desk. One is the ceremonial Bellas cup that’s filled with dirt that smells like wine (Boone’s Farm if her nose is to be trusted), the other is her favourite cup filled to the brim with water. Aubrey never uses that cup, and she also wouldn’t fill _any_ cup that much in case it spilt.

Before Chloe can voice any questions, a loud knock sounds from their front door. A split second later, her phone’s ringtone starts blaring from her bedroom.

Today was not going to be a relaxing day.

* * *

Jesse doesn’t think Beca’s going to come into work today, not when their joint shift started 20 minutes ago. Their British boss is pretty relaxed about work hours, but she was never more than 5 minutes late. He’s angry, but at this stage also not particularly surprised.

He had been operating under the assumption that Beca was mute, and okay maybe she had never outright indicated that she was, but it was still a fair assumption given the circumstances. He’d been a little hurt to find out she actually wasn’t at the auditions. So many questions sprang to mind, some of which he knows Beca never owed him the answers to, but it still made him wonder if this friendship of theirs was completely one-sided. Had he been too invested in trying to puzzle out the other girl that he was completely blind to what was going on?

Watching her leave the auditorium in the manner that she did made him rationalise that she was a lot more complex than he had initially given her credit for and obviously had a lot going on. This didn’t excuse the radio silence that followed the rest of the week though. He’s not sure what’s worse: Beca refusing to open any of his text messages, or her opening them and deciding to ignore them completely. She doesn’t show her face at any of their typical meetup places, and knowing how much Beca worshipped caffeine meant that she was clearly avoiding him if she didn’t even bother showing up at their usual café.

His older sister had always said that he watched too many movies – that he needed to focus more on the real world than the thousands of fictional ones that filled his favourite theatres. He’s always laughed it off, saying she needed to enjoy herself more and live a little. Maybe she was onto something. He wasn’t some protagonist and he didn’t need to go around being some noble hero. He’s allowed to be angry that someone he trusted was jerking him around like this.

The clattering of the front door bell signalled the entrance of the girl in question. Intent on ignoring her just as she had ignored him this whole week, Jesse curses a little when he sees just how frazzled she looks. Blame it on the way his parents raised him right, or maybe just the way Beca presented herself in that moment, but he could feel concern rise up in his chest.

* * *

It’s been a bizarre day for Chloe. The guy she had paid to help her find Lilly’s residence had stopped by their dorm this morning to return the money. That in itself wouldn’t have been strange since he hadn’t actually found her (Lilly had just sort of appeared in the car after she had returned from 'kidnapping' Cynthia-Rose), but he had handed over twice the money she had given him. She had tried to tell him there was too much but by the time she had counted the notes he had run off screaming down the hall.

Additionally, Tom was being weird. He had left a voicemail to ask her if anything "unusual" had happened lately, and was strangely evasive when she texted him about it afterwards. She wonders if she had said something to him last night, she only has vague memories of him helping her back to her room. He was a nice guy and all, but she just wasn’t sure if she could see him being the forever-type of person for her. Chloe’s a heart-on-her-sleeve type of girl, but she feels she owes it to him to at least try and sort out these feelings coherently a bit more before talking to him about it.

To top it off she had been walking on eggshells with Aubrey the entire day. There were a few times where she seemed to start to relax but then something would put her on edge all over again. Freshman Chloe would have constantly bothered the blonde in an attempt to cheer her up or get her to open up, but they’ve known each other long enough that she knows that Aubrey just needs to work through and process whatever it is by herself before she’d be comfortable with sharing her feelings.

That doesn’t stop her from speculating though. She knows it’s not her dad since he was still on deployment and uncontactable by the rest of the world. It wasn’t her mum who would always communicate through mail – something that isn’t delivered on weekends. Chloe isn’t sure whether she’s impressed or exasperated at how her best friend’s mother managed to make handwritten messages still seem so impersonal and cold.

It’s partway through a movie that she senses a shift in Aubrey’s demeanour from the other end of the couch. It’s one Chloe recognises as meaning a decision had been made. She pretends to not notice until the other girl slowly picks up the remote and lowers the volume on the TV.

“Chloe, I... Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course!” Chloe turns off the TV completely, sensing an important conversation. “You can trust me with anything.”

She’s initially confused when Aubrey begins to lift shirt. They’ve seen each other naked before (it comes part and parcel with sharing a bathroom as best friends for over three years) but there had always been a reason for it. This time, the reason becomes obvious when Aubrey shifts to the side and a certain something comes clearly into view.

_Late for what?_

Chloe’s first instinct is to cheer and offer congratulations but she can read the room enough to know that that wouldn’t exactly be welcome. She wants to touch it to see what it feels like. She wants to ask who it was. She wants to ask when it happened. She wants to ask what it was about.

“Why do you want to keep this a secret?”

“I… I don’t know who it is.”

“Oh, sweetie.” She draws Aubrey in for a hug, careful not to brush up against the brand new tattoo between them.


End file.
